Emiliee didn't stop running until she was safely inside her dressing room. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears whilst her whole body was shaking. She sighed and began pacing the room without realizing it. She tried to clear her aching and hazy head.
I just imagined it she thought to herself.
Emiliee let out a breath and sat down on the bed. The linen and sheet ruffled under her weight. The young teenager ran her fingers down the ornate decoration of the quilt and stared out into space. She had been so stupid. Of course she imagined it. What did she think it was…a ghost?
Yes she thought subconsciously.
She shook her head and lay down on the pillow. There was no such thing as ghosts! She was being a child; a cowardly, dim-witted child! The only thing that bothered her was that the voice was so real. Emiliee had felt the breath upon her neck, she had heard the voice, but what baffled her was the way that she had felt the voice. Imagine feeling a voice. Why it was absurd! You couldn't feel a voice just like you couldn't see air.
Emiliee sat up slowly and looked around the room. She glanced around at the random pieces of belongings scattered lazily all around it. It was funny; she had thought the room to be to clean and tidied before but now. Now the more she looked the more she actually saw. She saw books and hair pieces, boxes and other rubbish that had no real meaning for Emiliee.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked up to the mirror. Emiliee began fixing her hair and looking at her garments. She ran her hand down her dress, tilting her head sideways. She didn't look bad, not bad at all. Instantaneously her body ached for sleep and she turned around to go. But then she stopped. Her gaze still fixed on the mirror. Emiliee's eyebrows caved in confused. Boy did she ever need sleep. First she was thinking all that nonsense about feeling a voice and now she was imagining a crevice in a mirror.
Emiliee slowly walked forward to the mirror. The closer she got the more prominent the crevice became until she was certain that she wasn't imagining it. Warily she ran her hand down the side of it and let out a thin gasp of air. Her hand slid into the crevice. Emiliee stood there motionless for a moment. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know what was on the other side. Violent images swirled in front of her eyes at all of the terrible things that could be behind it. Finally taking one last breath she cautiously pushed the mirror open. Emiliee's eyes widened at the dark, dank passageway that lay before her. Was she really to venture down it? In her youth she had been told stories of monsters and beasts that had captured the princess and, on more then one occasion, killed people. Emiliee took a deep breath and, reminding herself that those stories were not real, she continued her way down the passage. Nothing could prepare her for the monster that awaited her at the end of the tunnel.
Emiliee traveled on and on, the dark never parting into sunlight. The only source of illumination was the pitiful candles that lined the walls. The candles were small and their numbers dwindled the farther down the passageway she got. As she traveled, she felt her uneasiness vanish. Fear was replaced with curiosity and, although the uncertainty of reaching the end haunted her, she was very eager to get there.
She suddenly stopped, staring directly ahead of her. Staring back was pitch black darkness. The candles didn't reside ahead of her and no light could help her lead the way. Emiliee took a deep breath. Was she to travel on with no light? Stumbling around clumsily until some creature consumed her? For the first time she felt more inclined to turn back. But for some strange reason, turning her back on the darkness scared her more then traveling into it. So with one last breath she began walking forward.
Immediately she lost sight at what was ahead of her. She didn't know where she was, what she was doing, and in what direction she was headed. But even though all that was true, she continued walking. She walked alone, only the sound of her feet echoing against the harsh stone floor followed her. Slowly her curiosity vanished and pure horror registered in her brain. What was she doing? No one knew where she was…no one could come and rescue her if she got lost…or worse.
Emiliee turned back to the direction she came, or what she thought was that direction anyway, and cautiously began walking back. She walked quicker, desperate to be back in the comforting realm of her dressing room. Until she let out a piercing scream.
She felt the floor move beneath her until there was no more left to support her. She fell straight down, hurtling to her death. Emiliee screamed as she had never screamed before. She screamed in terror, in regret, in sorrow and in the uncertainty all she could think was that one true fact that plagued her body, mind and soul. She was going to die.
She felt her body hit the floor harshly, her bones breaking under her weight. Her head hit the floor second. It felt as though it was shattering. Never before in her life had she ever felt pain to this degree. She opened her eyes slowly. Her vision was hazy. She couldn't lift her head and slowly she could see less and less. But she could make out the walls of what looked like mirrors. She saw a metal haze in the distance and a rope tied from it. Emiliee closed her eyes sharply. She could feel herself losing consciousness, losing life. With all of the will-power she could muster she tried to keep her eyes open. But in a matter of seconds her eyes closed and her body stopped stirring.
Christine sat silently at the kitchen table. Tears moistened her pale, but yet alluring face. How could she have said those things to Raoul? He had always been so helpful, so loving.
But I meant it
Christine sighed. She knew it was true.
That scared her, how passionately she had felt about Raoul insulting her angel. She had forgotten all about that. But inside she knew that she hadn't. She had only pretended to, for Raoul and Emiliee's sakes. She hadn't wanted their lived to be spiraling into immense darkness as hers had been. She had done it for them but yet she also knew she had been doing it for herself as well.
Christine just wanted to forget the pain and the hardship that followed with memories of her days at the Opera House. It had been such a big part of her life but Raoul had insisted she forget about it all. She couldn't forget. It was all a part of who she was. He was a part of who she was.
She looked up silently as she heard rushed footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn't want to look at Raoul, much less have a conversation with him as she knew she wouldn't be able to keep it friendly and civilized.
When Raoul appeared in the doorway his appearance shocked her. His hair was messily tangled around his shoulders. His clothes were not fully on and his eyes were wide with horror. As he spoke his voice was dazed and distressed. Christine knew in an instant something was wrong, and whatever it was, it extended beyond their riff that morning.
"Christine…..Oh Christine…" He stared at the floor, visibly fighting back sign of any emotion.
Christine watched him carefully. She wasn't sure how to react.
"Christine…I just received word from my…" he took a deep breath and continued on "Christine my cousin Jeffery is dead."
Christine's eyes widened. True, she had only met the man once in her lifetime but he had been very pleasant to her and she knew how close Raoul was with his cousin. In that instant she lost her voice, it came out softly. Almost only consisting of air.
"Oh Raoul, I'm…I'm so sorry. How did it happen?" She rose. Christine didn't want to move any closer to her husband as she already was. But she knew how desperately he needed comforting.
Raoul looked up at her and studied her face carefully. She looked so concerned and so caring. But a slight fire brewed within him. Her heart and soul belonged to another person. He had just lost his cousin and he was losing her. He was losing her more with every moment that passed and he wasn't sure he could do anything about it. Christine's inquiry however, made him forget about that monster that was in fact to be presumed dead, to the cause of his cousin's death. Raoul didn't want to disclose the information. It saddened him so.
"It was a freak accident. He fell, hit his head and….and…bled to death." His words came out softly and tears began to flow down his cheeks.
Christine felt her heart plummet. A single tear dropped down her already tear stained face.
"Oh Raoul…I'm…I'm so sorry…" She said looking up at him.
Raoul shook his head slowly. "I can't believe my life has come to this, my cousins dead and my wife doesn't love me….doesn't respect me…you betrayed me Christine…." He trailed off, slamming his fist against the kitchen counter.
Christine's compassion for Raoul faded. She looked at his with a steady gaze.
"I betrayed you? I betrayed YOU!" Her voice tested him.
Raoul looked up at her and walked over to her slowly. He grabbed her shoulder roughly and forced her to look him in the eyes.
"You love him don't you…?" He said threateningly
Christine stopped breathing, she couldn't think. She knew exactly what he meant but why was he asking her now? The statement caught her completely off guard. Was Raoul going to hurt her?
"I….I…." Christine stammered lamely
Raoul shook her roughly once more. "Look at me…LOOK AT ME! You love him…."
Christine said nothing as she stared at him. She looked deep in his eyes. The Raoul she knew was gone. She could find no trace of him. The new Raoul resided. The Raoul she had driven into insanity.
He nodded slowly and released her. He laughed silently to himself. His laugh was soft but menacing. Christine had never seen him act this way before.
"You will love me Christine. You will learn to love me like you did when we were children. You will forget all about that monster that lived under that Opera House. That monster who took you from me using nothing but childish mind games. That hideous, terrible monster with no soul. No compassion, no nothing. You WILL love me!"
Christine stood there shocked. What was happening to her beloved? She wanted to scream, to shout, and to slap him for insulting her angel. She wanted to hug him to tell him everything was going to be fine. She wanted to run away from him. But she desperately wanted to love him. If she loved him there would be none of these problems.
"He's dead Christine. Don't you remember that? HE'S DEAD" Raoul shouted. His voice echoing through the entire house. Penetrating the walls, the floors and Christine's very soul.
He always knew that she belonged to him. That knowledge that he would only ever be second best had eaten away from him. Until he finally reached the brink of insanity.
